


Consumed in the Service of Others

by nausicaa82



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, M/M, Workplace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa82/pseuds/nausicaa82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve must leave his dream job as a subject specialist librarian at a private college, and he finds a job in a small public library in Valhalla, NY, a suburb of New York City. As he struggles with his new life as the Westchester Public Library's reference librarian, he makes new friends and discovers a nefarious plot that could affect them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consumed in the Service of Others

**Author's Note:**

> Will add additional tags as plot develops, but all the romantic pairings are disclosed.
> 
> Love to fandomfrolics for the beta read and guidance. The mistakes are all me.

The interview had been going fairly well. They had a bit of a rough start as when Steve arrived, his interviewer, the director of the library, had been helping an older woman with a genealogy search at the reference desk. Once free, the man apologized multiple times for being thirty minutes late for their appointment, but Steve just sincerely smiled.  
  
“Nothing to apologize for. You can’t just walk away from a task half done.”  
  
The director smiled at Steve’s response and guided him right of the circulation desk, to his office. With the curtain drawn over the room’s only window, Steve had lost track of the time by his fourth answer. The director was asking him a mix of questions, testing what Steve would do in certain situations and trying to get a sense of Steve’s personality. Steve had found it easy to talk to the man and give personal examples of how he would address problems.   
  
“So, Mr. Rogers, what is your philosophy on reference?”  
  
“Well, Sir,” Steve started. “I have two beliefs that guide me when I’ve helped patrons at my current job, either at the reference desk or during my office hours. The first is that my role is to get people the right tool to find the answers they are looking for, to patiently teach them how to use the tool, and when necessary, find the answer for them.”  
  
The director nodded slightly as he continued to take notes in a folder, his eyes cast down on his writing. Steve paused and shifted slightly in his seat. He glanced around the room, taking in the neat stacks of journals, reports, forms, and books with sticky notes on them. His eyes lingered on the only picture in the office, a framed vintage WPA poster of Rodin’s _The Thinker_ encouraging use of the library. He had practiced his full response so many times, but now doubt was creeping in.   
  
_It would sound so corny and naive and...shit....you’re taking too long, need to answer, Steve. Take a breath, just tell the truth, be yourself._  
  
“And the second...” Steve inhaled and his voice was more firm than it had been the entire interview. “I will not judge any person for the information they are seeking. If I believe they may be a danger to others or themselves, I will try to help the best way I can and within the just policies of this library and the law.”   
  
The interviewer’s pen had stopped moving, and his eyes were looking straight at Steve now.   
  
“I have just two more questions for you, Mr. Rogers. You are currently at St. Kilian’s, a beautiful school with a great library, and we... we’re good, but we are just a small public library. We won’t have the kind of patrons you are used to. The most common questions we get are about the copier not working.”  
  
“Actually, sir, that’s the most common question I get at the desk currently, followed closely by ‘Where’s the restroom?’” Steve chuckled.   
  
“Ha. Good to know things don’t change that much, place to place. But, really... we can’t pay you like what you are making at St. Kilian’s. I’m sure you noticed the pay scale when applying. So tell me, why do you want to leave your lucrative academic job for this public library?”  
  
Steve tried not to let his smile fade too much. This answer was more rehearsed than any other, perfected to not sound like the half-truth it was.   
  
“Being the Art Subject Specialist at St. Kilian’s was my first job out of grad school, sir. I do enjoy it, I do. I just feel the demands of a tenure-track position are taking me further away from the reason why I wanted to be a librarian: to help others.”  
  
The interviewer had still not written anything, and Steve’s heart sank.   
  
_Dammit, Steve. The only solid lead in three months, and you’ve blown it. This guy is already done with you._   
  
“Fair enough, and now the final question: when would you be able to start, Mr. Rogers?”  
  
Steve blinked a bit. “Uh, um... let’s see... it’s Friday, I… I can put in my two weeks and start with the new year. Are you, um, offering me the job?”  
  
“Yes, I’m offering you the job. We’ve been making it work since we lost our former reference librarian, but we desperately need someone at the desk who’s not... well, me. And with the holidays, we’ll be a little slower; I can survive two more weeks, but not much longer than that.”  
  
Steve realized he was grinning like an idiot. The stress of the past four months had vanished instantly, and he felt free. His head was racing through what he need to do. He slightly shook his head to focus on what the man was now saying.   
  
“I have to tell you. It’s been a real pleasure meeting you officially. I watched you in Chicago...”   
  
Steve knitted his brows in confusion, but still couldn’t stop the grin from lingering on his face.   
  
“That is, I saw your presentation on college library programs for returning veterans at ALA this summer.”  
  
“Oh! Yes! That, yes. I’m actually quite proud about that.” Steve’s face lit back up.  
  
“And you should be; it was a great presentation. I was hoping you would be interested in implementing some of your ideas here. But we can talk more about it when you’re on the clock. Speaking of which...” he looked at his watch. “Oh my, it’s past six already. I’m sorry. I’ve kept you much longer than expected. I hope you can get back to the city this late.”  
  
“Not a problem, Director Coulson. I rode my bike in.” Steve tapped his shoe on the blue motorcycle helmet on the floor.   
  
“Please, you can call me Phil. Everybody does...” he then sighed and lightly touched just above his eye. “Well, almost everybody.”  
  
The two men left the library director’s office and stepped back into the public area, but now it was different than when they had gone in. The room was deserted and quiet. All the overhead lights were off, and a metal chained gate separated them from the main entrance. The only light came from two small lamps on the reference desk and the open door of the work room behind the circulation desk.   
  
Steve tensed as he heard someone swear loudly and metal crashing to the floor. He followed Phil into the lit room and saw it was dominated by a large conveyor belt moving books, DVDs, and CDs around from both the internal and external book return slots. Robotic arms pushed titles off the belt at different spots, then other robotic arms grabbed and placed the titles on various book carts. Steve didn’t see the source of the profanity.   
  
“Do I need to get the first aid?” Phil curtly asked the seemingly empty room.   
  
“No, Director!” a voice sing-songed back.   
  
Steve looked closer and saw that the robotic arms were actually putting the books in shelf order on the carts, creating spaces in between the items already there, and even moving some down when a shelf was getting too crowded.   
  
“Wow, I didn’t realize you’re on a RFID system.”  
  
“We try not to bring public attention to it,” Phil replied.   
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Becaaause,” a man with dark hair popped up from under a section of the belt closest to Steve, sucking on the middle knuckle on his left hand and holding a needle-nose plier in his right. “As you can see, I’ve made it better than the vendors could even begin to imagine in their wildest fantasies. If word got out, they’d be so pissed. Not to mention jealous.” The man smirked as he shook out his slightly injured hand.   
  
“You seem like you wouldn’t mind that outcome at all,” Steve teased, but then startled when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Previously hidden by a full book cart made with a dark shade of wood, a slightly older man in a light green cardigan stood from the computer desks in the corner.  
  
“Less than one minute and you’ve got Tony pegged.” He walked swiftly towards the group. “I like you already, smart guy. I’m Bruce Banner, Technical Services Librarian. It’s nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.   
  
“Steve Rogers, I will be the new reference librarian, come January.” Steve went to shake the offered hand, but pulled back when the needle-nose pliers were suddenly pointing at his chest.   
  
“Do you know how to troubleshoot a web browser?” the dark haired man questioned.   
  
“Yes, I...”  
  
“Excellent! I am tired of Director calling me out every other time an old man can’t get into his AOL email account to send money to Nigerian princes.” He withdrew the pliers.  
  
Phil stared daggers at the dark haired man while he addressed the tall blond.  
  
“And this, Steve, is Tony Stark. He is our...”  
  
“Computer Genius and Head of All Things Good,” Tony cut in.   
  
“He’s our IT Specialist.” Bruce corrected, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.   
  
“It’s nice to meet you, Tony.” Steve shook his hand, and then Bruce’s.   
  
“Why are you two still here? The library closed thirty minutes ago.” Phil questioned.   
  
“Had to fix a faulty algorithm in the fourth scanner. It was glitching and not sorting the DVDs properly. Gotta have the carts ready for Birdbrain in the--”  
  
Just then an annoying series of screeches took all of the attention to the small weather radio on a shelf by the desks.   
  
“This is a weather emergency bulletin,” a tinny voice announced. “NYDOT has closed sections of I-87, I-287, I-684, Bronx River Parkway, and Sprain Brook Parkway north of New York City due to the winter storm currently hitting the Tri-State area. One half to one inch of ice is already reported in the area with two to three inches more expected and wind gusts up to 30 mph. Conditions will continue to deteriorate through the night until 6:00 am. Travel is not advised.” The screeches returned and the message started to repeat. Bruce walked over to turn the radio down.  
  
“It wasn’t even cloudy when I drove in just...” Steve trailed off as he looked at his watch. His voice now was laced with a hint of panic. “How am I going to get back to Brooklyn tonight?”  
  
“Well, Newbie, I don’t think you are. You heard the little man in the box. Roads are closed, and ice isn’t anything to trifle with,” Tony said.   
  
“But I’ve got to get back to LC...”  
  
“Elsie--Your Wife? Girlfriend? Precocious niece you look after?” Tony offered.   
  
“No, no. ‘L’...’C’... is my cat.” Steve made air quotes with his fingers.   
  
“Ha! I get it, but we use Dewey Decimal around here, college boy,” Bruce said, winking as he returned from shutting down his computer. Steve's worry stopped him from acknoweldging the joke.   
  
“She needs to be fed and given her meds.” Steve reached into his breast coat pocket and turned his phone back on. “I guess I could ask Bucky to do it.” He started typing on the keypad quickly.  
  
Tony raised his finger and opened his mouth, wanting to pry a little more, but Bruce cut in before he could.   
  
“Steve, the storm is gonna last all night, so why don’t you crash at my place? My wife makes a damn good vegetable lasagna, and we live just a few blocks away.”  
  
“Oh, I couldn’t impose. I’ll just find a motel.”  
  
“No imposition, Steve. I insist.”  
  
“Well, I guess, yeah. Thank you, that would be great,” Steve blushed slightly but flashed a playful smile. “I’m sorry I don’t have a bottle of wine to bring.”   
  
Tony’s mouth was still agape, his eyes darting between Bruce and Steve. The younger man returned to his text, finishing it quickly before snapping his phone shut and dropping it back into his pocket.  
  
“Well, then, we should get home before it gets any worse,” Phil said and led Steve back to his office so they could retrieve their coats and bags. They then stood by the side entrance, waiting for Bruce and Tony to return from the staff’s break room.   
  
After the four men stepped out into the cold, Phil locked the door behind them. The whipping icy wind cut at their exposed bits of skin. Steve saw the lot only had his bike, one parked black sedan, and an idling red car with a man behind the wheel.   
  
“This is terrible, and walking would be stupid. I’m giving you two a lift,” Tony announced as he put his hands on Bruce and Steve’s backs, guiding them toward the red car. “Goodnight, Director!” he shouted over his shoulder.   
  
“Be safe guys,” Phil called out as he opened his car door.   
  
The car ride would have been ridiculously short given normal conditions, but the ice was already making it easy for the wheels to slip so the driver went extremely slow. Inside the car was silent except for the hum of the heater, so when Steve’s phone chimed, Tony startled and turned back to look at Steve.   
  
**LC fed & medicated. Sleeping over with a guy you just met. You’re such a slut. ;) -B**  
  
Steve gave a slight chuckle and quickly texted back before Bruce announced they had arrived.   
  
**Am not. He’s married. :P Thanks re: LC. Stay safe and warm. -SR**  
  
“Thanks for the ride, Tony.” Steve said and slid out of the car, following Bruce to the front door. He stopped on the covered porch, turning back to give the two men still in the car a small wave before stepping inside. 


End file.
